(( I had this idea in an airport. ))

Beep, beep, beep, beep!

"We've got another one, Scott," David slid his feet of the desk, looking at the alert that had popped up on his screen. "Vincent Damien Bishop. Male. Aged twenty seven. Returning home from Istanbul." He humphed, "Some exotic holiday. Wish we all could pay for spontaneous trips to Turkey." 

Scott swallowed slightly and nodded. He straightened the little badge on his shirt that said 'Trainee', "Will I take notes again, or...?" 

"No, no..." David stood up, "I want you to take this one yourself, Scott. If you ever want to be promoted,  you have to start taking cases. And I mean girls and guys." He added as he saw Scott's mouth open to protest.

Scott close his mouth again and glared slightly for a second, before standing up, straightening his uniform, "Fine." 

"I don't know why you get like this, Scott. Whenever it's a girl that comes through, you leap to take the experience. Whenever it's a guy, you shy away. It's like you're scared of them. Most of our previous trainees were exactly the opposite," David shook his head, picking up a notepad and pen just as the door opened and Vincent stepped through.   

Scott and David's eyes both widened at the same time, as his appearance sunk in. He was bright. Vivid. Violet. Every inch of his (carved out of frickin' stone, mind you) body was purple. He had long hair of the same colour, and his eyes, too, were stunningly lavender.  

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Vincent must have noticed their stares. He seemed to talk directly to David, though, as though he hadn't noticed Scott in the room. He lifted his hands up in a jazz-hands way, "'Wow, he's purple!'. I'm this far from sending a petition into government for racial discrimination against me. Every single plane I take, I get called into customs. Let's just get this investigation over with, alright? I'm tired and jet-lagged, and I want to go home."

"Fair enough," David walked over to Scott, literally putting an arm on his back and shoving him in front of Vincent. "There you go, Scott. Do your job." 

Vincent's eyes seemed to fall on Scott for the very first time. They raked down his form shamelessly, in a way that made Scott's knees weak, and then returned to his face. 

Vincent grinned, purring out, "Well, hello, handsome~"

Oh my gawd, Scott thought, as his face filled with colour from the bridge of his nose to the tips of his ears, I have never been gayer in my /entire life/ than I am right now. "U-Uh, h-hell-hey. U-U-Um, I-I'm ju-just going to..." Scott spluttered awkwardly, his words becoming a wreck as it dawned on him that his job was to pat this guy down, head to toe. "I-I, j-just a st-standard e-examination- I-" 

"Scott," David frowned, his voice stern, "Get on with it already, will you? The hell are you getting all stuttery for?" 

"Aw," Vincent interjected, leaning forward to take Scott's chin in his fingers, "You can't blame a guy for getting a little nervous, now, can you?" 

Oh my goodness. I'm going to need a long cold shower after this. And a copy of the Holy Bible. Scott laughed nervously, pulling his head away from Vincent's hand, "T-T-Thank you. I-I..." He cleared his throat, "I think I'm b-better now." 

"Well then I'm going to have to do a better job at tryna get you flustered~" Vincent muttered under his breath, in a way that only allowed the cute little customs officer to hear, delighting in the way the man's blush returned with full force. 

"Yeah, well quit stalling and pat the guy down," David ordered, in a tone which Scott had come to learn meant  no nonsense. "Remember, I have to file a report for every one of the cases you take." 

"Yeah, right..." Scott swallowed thickly and raised his hands, ignoring the way his fingers were trembling, "S-Sir, before I begin, would you like to declare any illegal weapons or substances that you may be carrying on your person?" 

"Mm, call me 'sir' again. I like it," Vincent purred.

Scott squeaked, whimpering slightly. "C-Come on, d-don't make this any more d-difficult than it is already. J-Just tell me if you have any illegal items on you." 

"Fine, spoil the fun. No, I'm not carrying any drugs or AK-47s on me," Vincent pouted, feigning disappointment. "Is that what you want?" 

"Thank you," Scott sighed exasperatedly. He leaned forward, placing his hands on Vincent's shoulders and beginning to pat him down. He checked the sleeves of each of his outstretched arms before starting to make his way down his chest. 

He felt his blush coming back with full intensity as he patted down what felt like rock hard muscles under the thin shirt. Oh my gawd he's so hot, oh my /gawd/ he's so hot, /oh/ my gawd, he's /so/ hot.  It was only with every ounce of determination that he managed to pull his hands away each time. He was frowning heavily at the man's shirt, his eyebrows knitted fiercely together. (About all the ferocity of a flustered kitten). 

Here came the 'fun' part. 

Scott trembled slightly, glancing up at Vincent one more time, and he instantly regretted it.

Vincent licked his lips, his eyes flashing with something that made Scott feel like scratch the Holy Bible, he'd need Jesus Himself to wash away all of the sins that just crossed his mind. "C'mon, cutie. On your knees." 

Scott didn't even bother trying to reply, just dropped his gaze submissively and sunk onto his knees. He didn't dare raise his head, not knowing what he'd be confronted with if he looked upwards. He started to pat down each of the man's trouser legs, while simultaneously deciding he was definitely going to church this Sunday. He did it as quickly as possible before finally scuttling away from him and standing up. He let out the deepest of deep breaths, glad it was all finally over. 

"Well?" David asked.

"He's, uh, n-not carrying a-anything. Nothing visible, anyway," Scott looked down at the floor, not stupid enough to look anywhere near the man he'd just finished searching. "It's a false alarm."

"Told you. And yet, I bet you anything, next time I'll be interrogated again. Probably with a much less attractive customs officer," Vincent complained. 

"Yeah, yeah. Stop wasting our time, and go collect your luggage," David deadpanned.

Vincent grinned, and launched forward, grabbing Scott by the arm and pulling him into him. Scott yelped helplessly as he stumbled into Vincent's shirt.

"Oi!" David shouted, and pulled a taser out of his belt, "Let go of our trainee!" 

 Vincent moved, his lips brushing against Scott's ear in a way that made his stomach turn to jelly, "They took down my number when they pulled me over for a spotlight search. I expect you'll be in contact. See you soon~" And without another word, he let go of Scott, turned and walked out of the room. 

"Are you okay?" David ran to Scott's side instantly, tucking his taser away and grabbing Scott's shoulders, "What did he tell you? Did he threaten you? We can press charges if you like." 

Scott's eyes widened, and he shook his head fervently, "N-No, no. He... he gave me his number..." Scott grinned helplessly, giggling. He had turned into a goofy, lovesick teenager, but who the heck cared? The hottest guy Scott had ever met, and he gave him his number. 

David's eyebrows raised. He let go of Scott and took a step back, "Oh. Ohh. So that's why you're so reluctant to pat down the guys. Geezus, I was wondering why you were lookin' at him like you wanted to rip his clothes off."

Scott just giggled again, grinning guiltily, "Aw, come on, even you had to admit he was pretty good looking."

"He was freaking purple, Scott," David rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Well, whatever makes you tick. Could have told me earlier you were gay. I mean, it's obvious you're camp as a row of tents, but I never thought..." 

Scott shrugged, his grin not fading, "I guess it's not something you casually mention." 

"I guess not," David shook his head again, muttering under his breath. "Well, next time we get a guy in here, I think I'll save the obnoxious flirting and do it myself."

"That's a good idea," Scott agreed, chuckling. 

((ishoulddoasecondparttothis))